


High Rise

by TheRoarOfAtlas



Series: Tales Of Suplex City [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arson, Have We Met Before? trope, Heavily inspired by the Seth Rollins ad for 2k, I Don't Do This For Just Anyone trope, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mostly plot with some porn, Nightcrawler!Balor, Paternal Strife, Strangers to Lovers, Wrestle AU: Suplex City, so we are keeping the tradition, thirst party saturday, this got so long, wrestlers without the wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoarOfAtlas/pseuds/TheRoarOfAtlas
Summary: In which we return to The City That Shows No Mercy, just in time for Seth Rollins to make a deal with a demon to burn it down. This is some X-men nonsense.[x-posted to Tumblr]Enjoy!





	High Rise

**Author's Note:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains suicidal contemplation, paternal beatings and (greatly exaggerated) assumptions of character death. Stay safe everyone!]

“You want them t’ believe it was _you_ that would burn the place down?”

 

The voice echoed and lilted, dripped into his ears and mind like tar. Seth found himself paralyzed, the empty gasoline can swaying to and fro in his hand.

 

“You want these silly, poor folk to tremble at’cher feet then? T’ fear ye as some terrible Prometheus creature, bringin’ them fire though they ask not fer it?” There was a shuffling through the pitch black and a pair of bright blue eyes glowed at him. “Ye would, I know yer heart's desire. I know everythin’ that goes on in yer head. Ye want t' say ye started somethin’. You want the history books to remember ye as a revolutionary.”

 

“Nah.” Seth finally managed to say. “Mostly I just want my ex-father to notice me.” There was a long pause. At least, he assumed it was a pause and hoped that _whoever_ was talking to him hadn’t just disappeared back into whatever hole they had emerged from.

 

The eyes flickered to a different spot, barely in his field of vision. “…Ye’ve lost me, boy.”

 

“His building! His… _archive_. It’s the life work of the man who adopted me and I want to _destroy_ it.” Seth spat. “He was content to toss me aside, hell, he’s giving me a _funeral_. I want to _burn his life to the ground_. Starting there. I’m not in this for anyone except me, so you can stuff that hokey bullshit about me starting a revolution.” He shook the empty gas can in the direction of those narrowed blue eyes. “I’ve got a king to slay. You gonna’ get in my way? Or are you gonna’ help me, _Demon Bálor?_ ”

 

“That all depends on what ye need.” Bálor replied after yet another contemplative pause.

 

“I know you can get into places. Places you shouldn’t be.” Seth took a deep breath. “Places you _couldn’t_ be.”

 

“You know more than most, then.” Seth briefly saw a mouth filled with more teeth than he could count. “Revenge consumes, Rollins.”

 

“Trust me, I’m aware.” Seth replied grimly.

 

…

 

The day of the funeral was dreary. It poured for most of the afternoon, soaking the trash-riddled streets and their miserable denizens.

 

Seth sat on the fire escape of an abandoned apartment building and watched the preparations get under way, canopies popping open over the cemetery far below. Cracked pots full of dead plants littered the deck around him and without really thinking about it he dug his fingers into the brittle soil of one such pot. It was like ash, crumbling away into dust in his hand. His brow furrowed. So much of his thoughts seemed to be taken up by fire and its byproducts nowadays.

 

Rain pattered on the boards clumsily placed over the gaps in the fire escape slats above his head, the noise dull and far-off as though it was from another world. Dead roots parted easily under the pressure of his absent-minded digging and then, there was something solid. Metal. Seth tugged at the object until it came loose, spent the next few seconds rolling it back and forth between his fingers. It was a coin, small, a thing to be put into a pocket and forgotten about.

 

_Like me_.

 

“Come up here, won’t you boy?”

 

Seth wasn’t sure if he would ever actually _meet_ Bray Wyatt. Thus far in their interaction Wyatt seemed more than content to just speak through his Family. He claimed to have rescued Seth, brought him back from the brink of death. Rollins had hazy, sweat-soaked nightmares about plummeting off the side of the Spinnarooni to his landing on the concrete far below, pain shooting through his knee like a hot knife.

 

It was no miracle or benevolent act that permitted Seth to survive. He was to be held for ransom and Wyatt needed him alive if he hoped to get anything from his adoptive father.

 

But Hunter wrote him off. Cast him aside like garbage, actually. No manhunt, no media coverage, _nothing_. Stephanie delivered the surprisingly-teary announcement that he’d fallen to his death from atop the Spinnarooni, a cautionary tale to extreme athletes everywhere.

 

Watching his own funeral was…unnerving. Everyone had such nice things to say about him. People that he’d never met before, extolling his many talents and virtues.

 

The individual in a sheep mask beside him cocked their head when he made an irritated noise. “This is fucking _stupid_.” Seth snapped. “Why the fuck am I even here? It’s just one more nail in his coffin.” _And mine, ha ha_.

 

“My child, you _must_ understand your purpose. You were built for so much more than some vigilante charades.” Wyatt’s voice crackled from the speaker in the mask after a brief hiss of static.

 

Seth shook his head. “You keep saying that, but I’m getting tired of the bullshit. Trips gave up on me so fucking fast. Didn’t even go to the cops with your ransom note, he just cut right to the chase. What the hell.” He shuddered uncomfortably. “Is there even a body in that casket?”

 

“You are a conqueror. The monsters have grown old and feeble in our deep domain.”

 

“You know I stayed on the rooftops for a _reason_ , right Wyatt? I mean shit, I _hate_ the Underground.” Seth groaned. “It’s dark and wet and it reeks like moldy garbage.”

 

“Is that why you abandoned your lunatic brother to us?”

 

Seth gritted his teeth. “I thought he was _dead_. Ro--uh, my other partner kept throwing himself at Acolytes and your Family and he made zero fucking headway. We had important things to-”

 

“Yes, nothing more important than getting the _attention_ of your daddy dearest.” Rollins swung at that, his fist connecting with the jaw of the Family member standing beside him. They staggered back but Wyatt continued on unaffected, “Little lost boy, all you ever wanted was a family.”

 

“Shut the _fuck_ up.” Seth shoved them back harder, closer and closer to the edge of the building.

 

“Listen to _me_ , you scared child.” Wyatt demanded. “I dug you out of the garbage when your own _brothers_ had forsaken you. I tended your wounds and guided you through the fever. I freely admit that I tried to use you as leverage to eke resources out of your father’s pockets, but I _never_ anticipated that he would so callously _abandon_ you like everyone else had. Seth, whether you like it or not, I’m the only person in your corner out of everyone in this whole damned city.”

 

_Like everyone else had. Like everyone else had_. Seth’s body felt cold all of a sudden. “Be quiet.”

 

“You have work to do to make up for me sparing you, boy. A _lot_ of work to do.”

 

“I think letting me die would have been the better alternative.” Seth snarled. “You expect me to be fuckin’ grateful to you? For kidnapping me?”

 

“I merely found you--”

 

“Your _sheep fuckers_ fucked me up and I rolled off the side of a fuckin’ _Ferris_ wheel.” Seth ground his teeth together even harder. “Oh you _found_ me alright, definitely dug me out of the garbage. But you can’t exactly claim you weren’t the one who put me there in the first fucking place.”

 

“--Alone and abandoned.” Bray continued smoothly as though Seth hadn’t interrupted him. “Now, I heard you’ve been tryin’ to get in touch with the demon prince. That’s an unwise choice. Bálor is not a bein’ to be trifled with.”

 

“It’s _none_ of your fucking business-”

 

“Oh but it _is_ , my dear boy. Every stir you cause puts me on the map. A map which I have done my best to shape to my own will. A map that requires more… _delicacy_.” The member of the Family put a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “You need me, just as I need you. Why do you fight this?”

 

“I don’t _need_ anyone, you greasy shit. Not you, not Bálor, _no one_.”

 

“You would rail against your brothers forever, cut off your nose to spite your damn face. It’ll do you no good to push me away like you did to them, child.” Pain shot suddenly through Seth’s leg and he gripped the railing on the side of the building until his knuckles whitened. “You are _mine_ , my dear boy. You’d best get that through your head. You’re much more useful to me like this, instead of in the vegetative state that the rest of my flock has been reduced to.”

 

“I will _never_ work with you willingly.” Seth hissed, desperately trying to resist the urge to hold his knee and scream. It was _agony_ , hot and searing as though that Acolyte from another lifetime was slitting his tendons anew. Rollins knew in the back of his mind that Wyatt was just toying with him, that the pain wasn’t _real_ like he was.

 

It did little to alleviate the feeling.

 

The Family member finally departed, humming to themselves, and Seth was left alone to watch the rest of his ceremony play out. He was thoroughly soaked, his grip on the railing still tight as he tried to force his leg to hold his weight.

 

“Ye must find this spectacle odd.”

 

Seth didn’t even bother looking up. “Tonight. I’m doing it tonight.” He grated out.

 

“Oh?” Bálor asked, his tone nonchalant.

 

“Yes, I-” Seth almost dropped and he fumbled to grab the railing. “Fuck. I have to, have to prove that I’m payin’ attention. Prove I’m still here. Make a statement.”

 

“Yer set on this, then?” Bálor leaned against the railing beside him, his eyes searching Seth’s when the other man looked up. “Once I get ya’ in there, yer on yer own. No turnin’ back.”

 

“I know.” Seth dropped his head to rest on the railing. “I have to, though.” He breathed.

 

Bálor simply nodded.

 

And now here he was, winding through the building with a full can of gasoline. Room after room filled with memorials to colossi of old, ornate robes and glass cases of relics. Seth felt his gut twist with foreign guilt.

 

_I shouldn’t be here_.

 

The night watchman hadn’t been an issue. Seth had dragged his unconscious body outside to nap peacefully against one of the dumpsters.

 

While he meandered Seth couldn’t help but start to recall the good times in the Helmsley household growing up. Hunter had made sure he didn’t want for anything, indulging whatever fancy Seth showed interest in _that_ week. With a fresh stab of shame in his belly Seth remembered how Roman and Dean had grown up apart from him, hungry and roaming the streets.

 

Rollins liked to tell himself that he hadn’t taken advantage of their trust. That he hadn’t used their loyalty to rope them into some ill-advised scheme. They _wanted_ to join him. It wasn’t _his_ fault.

 

He liked to tell himself that, anyway.

 

The gasoline scent clung thick to his nose and throat. Rollins regretted not eating anything before heading out, his stomach already in knots and getting worse. In a fit of irritation he wrapped his fist in his shirt, slammed it through a display case and picked up a baseball bat of untold importance. Barbed wire wound around the wooden body, the whole thing still bearing brick-red spatters from a more aggressive era. The black-taped handle sat wrong in his hands, but he barely even noticed.

 

The gas can laid forgotten on its side, spilling out onto the floor as Seth took the bat to the various set pieces around him. Rhinestones and sequins flew through the air while he destroyed chunks of the city’s colorful history, brocade and velvet shredded to tatters with the barbed wire. Seth realized dimly that he was yelling, infuriated animal sounds ripping from his chest to punctuate his blows. He couldn’t seem to stop it.

 

There was a puddle of gasoline on the floor now, splashing over his worn leather boots. Half-crazed, maddened by lack of sleep and old ghosts and the throbbing in his skull, Seth threw the baseball bat with all his strength and dug into his pocket with _intent_. The lighter clicked in heart-stopping disappointment before flickering to life and Rollins stared at the flame, through it to the display stand bearing a crown with a chainmail headpiece. Rage flared brighter than any inferno. Seth _screamed_ at the display, his mind conjuring up the memory of his adoptive father wearing that ridiculous crown. “ _I’m burning everything you built to the ground!_ ”

 

He pitched the lighter at his feet and for one breathless moment Seth Rollins _welcomed_ death.

 

Arms wrapped around his waist from behind, gray fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt; the world slowed to a clarifying half-speed. The lighter continued its headlong tumble to the floor and the realization of what was about to happen hit Seth _hard_. Light refracted off the case of the lighter. He tried to lean forward, tried to catch it as it ignited the fumes lurking over the gasoline puddle.

 

Then they were gone, plunged through the silent in-between once more before exploding out the other side on a rooftop. “Yer fuckin’ _daft_ , know ‘at?” Bálor hissed in his ear as he released him. “If y’ wanted t’ kill yerself, I coulda’ saved y’ the trouble.”

 

“What? I-I didn’t…I wasn’t going to…” Seth’s protests faded out as he realized that was _exactly_ what he was about to do. He crumpled, propping himself up with his elbows and holding his aching head. “No, _fuck_.”

 

“Yer a fuckin’ idiot. So blinded by yer damn vengeance you never bothered t’ plan a way out.” Bálor snorted. “Fuckin’ stupid. I dunno’ if it’s worse that ye _didn’t_ intend to kill yourself. Accidentally dyin’ on yer own arson scene isn’t much for sendin’ a message. ‘Specially since y’ know the man doesn’t give a toss whether yer still alive.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Nae, y’ need someone to tell you yer being a fuckin’ ass.”

 

“ _Nobody_ ,” Rollins seethed through his teeth, “gives a _fuck_ about whether I live or die. Not just Hunter. So it doesn’t _fucking_ matter, now does it?”

 

“Yer a goddamn liar _and_ a shit arsonist? Hit the jackpot with you.” Bálor grunted. “Too busy listenin’ to that poison-peddlin’ shepherd like the good sheep y’ are.”

 

“You were supposed to help me get in and that’s _it_ , why the fuck did you come back?!” Seth snapped indignantly.

 

“I had a feelin’ you’d go tits-up. Figured that you’d choke more n’ anythin’.” Bálor shrugged at him. “Once upon a time we had a big fella’ who was real good fer startin’ a fire. He’s gone now though, otherwise I’d have sent him.” Bálor’s brow furrowed. “Instead I come across you tryin’ to self-immolate.”

 

“I got carried away.” Rollins muttered sullenly.

 

“Yer emotional about him. Good. Means that batsy farmer didn’t get all of you.”

 

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“Exactly what I fuckin’ said.” Bálor growled, his eyes glowing in the darkness. “His flock are braindead. It’s reassurin’ that yer not even after all this time with him.” Seth looked away, not understanding Bálor’s game. A hand caught him under the chin and turned his head back. “It’s a good thing.” Bálor said, his tone a touch less agitated. “Wyatt’ll suck the life from yer fuckin’ marrow.”

 

“He seems more like he wants to suck the life from my-”

 

“ _Feck’s_ sake.” Bálor snapped.

 

“What, I can’t make a joke?”

 

“Y’ really want to be jokin’ about that man anywhere near yer naughty bits?”

 

Seth fairly wheezed with laughter, nerves making him giggly. “My… _naughty bits_ -” Off in the distance, flames licked the skyline. The old archive had caught it and caught it _good_. The sick thrill made Seth laugh even harder, his empty stomach twisting with a combination of nausea and hysterics.

 

Bálor sighed heavily. “Yer over-exhausted. Quiet down before someone notices.”

 

“I want them to notice!” Seth practically shouted, grinning wildly. “I want them all to see what I did! I want them to know, I want _him_ to know!”

 

“ _I said quiet_.” Blue eyes crackled with strange energy, burning trails in the dark as Bálor circled him. “If I’d had any fuckin’ sense in my head, I’d hae left you t’ burn. I didn’t. Somebody out there wants ye alive, Rollins.”

 

Seth opened his mouth to retort and was abruptly halted by that twisting, ripping pain in his leg. He screamed out before he could help it, dropping to the ground and clutching the old injury. He was dimly aware of Bálor hovering over him but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t focus. _You are_ _ **mine**_ _, my dear boy. You’d best get that through your head._ Seth grunted, biting back another cry.

 

Gray-tipped fingers touched his forehead. Brilliant blue eyes seared into his own from the darkness and there was a flash of too many teeth before Seth lost consciousness from the pain.

 

…

 

“Ye might have mentioned that he fuckin’ worked y’ over.”

 

Seth groggily pried his eyes open. Bálor was crouched across from him, his head cocked to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Seth was getting a _little_ tired of their conversations starting in the middle.

 

Bálor made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “He has his talons in yer knee.”

 

“It’s an old injury, I-”

 

“Ye mighta’ said somethin’ abou’ hi’ bein’ able t’ use it again’ ya’.” Bálor’s accent had thickened further. He was obviously irritated again.

 

Seth felt his own irritation flare. “Why the hell would I tell _you?_ So you can figure out how to control me too?” He spat, struggling to sit up.

 

Bálor shoved him back down with one hand, making Seth sputter indignantly. “Ya’ misun’erstan’ me.” He said curtly. “I’m nae that kind of demon. Thought y’ knew that much.”

 

“Motherfucker _bamfs_ through time and space, but expects me to believe that he’s above a little mental manipulation.” Rollins sniped.

 

“Only space. Can’t do nothin’ abou’ time.” Bálor gave him that smile with too many teeth. “So what’s your next move?”

 

Instead of replying immediately, Seth took a moment to stretch and look around. This was clearly Bálor’s living area. Seth was resting on a tangle of blankets all piled in a corner and, while the windows were mostly boarded up, a few slats had been removed here and there to let the light in. He could hear the sound of cars going by, as ever.

 

His stomach growled loudly and Bálor laughed, getting to his feet. “Hungry then?”

 

“Always.” Seth sighed, a little self-conscious. An apple was thrust at his face. “How long was I out for?” Rollins asked after he had taken a few bites. Food was like ash in his mouth, tasteless and gray, but he was always so hungry and thirsty. The apple at least took a little of the edge off.

 

Bálor shrugged, biting into his own apple. “Nine hours or so?” He seemed skittish all of a sudden, tearing chunks out of the fruit with single-minded fervor. “Look, I’ll be level wit’cha’ on this. Someone wants t’ see yer.” He said suddenly. “He’s asked me t’ bring y’ in. I…I think it might do ye some good t’ at least listen t’ what he’s gotta’ say.” Bálor fidgeted with the apple. “He jus’ wants t’ talk, y’know?”

 

“Somebody that could help me out?” Seth asked excitedly, his mind already a blur of fantastic ideas for the future.

 

“Ye, I hope so at any rate.” Bálor replied cautiously.

 

“Absolutely. When does he want to meet?”

 

“He mentioned any time after six. We’re only at half-past eleven in the mornin’ now, so if y’ don’t mind I was hopin’ t’ maybe catch a bit of a nap.” Bálor gestured at the pile of blankets. Seth hurriedly stood up, running a hand through his hair to straighten it out. “Thank ye.” Bálor murmured, slumping down onto the bed and wrapping himself in the many blankets before curling up like a cat. He was snoring in a matter of minutes and Seth was _incredibly_ jealous of his ability to nod off so rapidly. He usually ended up laying on his back for _hours_ , staring up at the ceiling and praying for sleep to find him.

 

Disgruntled, Seth turned to the windows. Peering out through one of the gaps in the boards, he realized they were up higher than he had originally thought. The skyline stretched out in front of him, interrupted by the occasional gap in high-rises. The city wasn’t dead yet, he supposed, watching idly as off in the distance an enormous crane worked to assemble another building. A plume of smoke still rose from the warehouse-turned-archive and Seth smirked.

 

_The sun isn’t as bright as I remember_. His smirk faded.

 

Seth put his back to the wall and slid down it to the floor, bringing one leg up to bend at the knee. His other leg, the one that the Acolyte had injured all those years ago, he left stretched out. The scar on the back of his knee shouldn’t still bother him but it seemed as though every time he was on his way to forgetting about it, the pain flared back up.

 

Seth rubbed his forehead wearily, resting the back of his head against the wall so he could stare at the ceiling. Sunlight filtered through the worn tiles over him. This place was clearly abandoned. Another skeletal structure for the neighborhood destitute to overrun, only to have it torn down and rebuilt over and over again.

 

He focused his attention on the man sleeping in the pile of blankets after a short eternity of studying the ramshackle tile framework. Bálor was a twitchy sleeper, it would seem, gray-tinged hands fluttering over the blankets and linoleum every couple of minutes. Seth wondered at the faded black marks on his extremities, wondered if it had something to do with how he could move through space.

 

And wasn’t _that_ a thing to ponder, the way Bálor could Houdini his way around with no warning except for the nearly-silent displacement of air. That was definitely _not_ a trait found in nature.

 

Seth propped his chin up on his hand, his head tilted to the side as he watched Bálor sleep. They called him a demon in the Underground, the Demon Prince. Could that even be possible? The only other identified _demon_ Seth had ever come across was the huge man-machine, Kane. Their interactions had been mercifully brief as Kane didn’t seem overly interested in fighting _him_ , instead usually getting caught in the crossfire of street scuffles. What if there were others like him?

 

Was Bálor more like Kane, augmented with science-fiction upgrades? Or was it just wishful thinking on Seth’s part, hoping in vain that logic could parse the unparsable? _Was_ Bálor a demon? An honest-to-gods, hellfire and brimstone demon?

 

Did it even matter?

 

Reluctantly, Seth crept a little closer to where Bálor slept. For a so-called demon, he wasn't all that terrifying when he was asleep. Or when he was awake, if Seth was being honest with himself. Bálor had a strangely kind smile, well-accented by a thickly-stubbled jawline and _of course_ , those piercing blue eyes and--

 

_And_ _ **nothing**_ , Seth scolded himself for being so predictably attracted to someone like Bálor, all smoke and mystery with no substance. He folded his arms and grimaced sternly down at his knees. _No, absolutely not._ Bálor groaned, mumbling something in his sleep and snapping Seth's attention back up. His hands roamed aimlessly on the moth-eaten comforter, fingers digging at the fabric.

 

Seth glanced up a little higher, then squinted at a rickety shelf over the lump of blankets. _Are those…?_ He pulled himself upright and tiptoed _even_ closer, barely able to stifle a snicker when his suspicions were confirmed. _Legos_ , a variety of sets posed out on the shelf. Off to the side, a small piece of paper read _To Finn, from Saint Mick_.

 

Seth’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest and he tore his eyes away, settling back down into a crouch and folding his arms.

 

At some point Seth must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake. “I tried t' let yer sleep as long as I could manage. We'll be late if we don't get a move on, Rollins.” Bálor extended a hand to pull him to his feet. “Shall we?”

 

Seth shook away the cobwebs and took Bálor's hand. For a moment, all he could focus on was Bálor's face and the way he was frowning. The demon looked pensive, almost _worried_. “Hey, if it would be easier for me to go alone...” Seth trailed off when Bálor shook his head jerkily.

 

“Y' need backup in case somethin' turns fecky.” The blue-eyed man said shortly, tucking Seth beneath his arm.

 

“Can...Can you go _anywhere?_ ” Seth asked.

 

“Nae. I have limits. And I need t' have either been there before, or seen the place in a picture. Need t' know where I'm goin'.” Bálor's grip tightened. “Time t' go.”

 

It was as dark as midnight in the brief in-between, Bálor's eyes the only light source. Seth wasn't sure if he would even be able to comprehend what the area looked like. He was, after all, only human, and according to his very limited understanding of dimensional traipsing, something like _the in-between_ shouldn’t even exist. He wondered if he should close his eyes instead of risk the surefire _insanity_ that would befall him if he tried to figure out the featureless space. He would have to ask Bálor--

 

An all-too-familiar room solidified around them and Seth realized as a fist connected with his stomach that he had been tricked. Behind him, he heard Bálor grunt. Seth dropped to the floor, his body already curling defensively in on itself. The side of an expensive dress shoe caught his shoulder, knocking him onto his back. “Welcome home kid.” Hunter said. His heel came straight for Seth’s face and Seth barely got his hand up in time, rolling the blow to his jaw. He bit his tongue and yelped in pain, feeling his lip split under the pressure of the smooth tread.

 

Hunter straddled his chest, pinning Seth to the ground with his sheer mass. “Helmsley, the fuck are y’ doin’?!” Bálor cried, sounding horrified. Hunter ignored him, obviously intent on pulverizing Seth’s face with his fists. Bálor tried to drag him off of Rollins and was thrown aside by a vicious shove.

 

“Wyatt promised me.” Hunter seethed finally, pausing in his onslaught. Seth choked in a breath, not daring to lower his hands. “He promised me that you’d been dealt with. Imagine my surprise when you turned up none the fucking worse for the wear. Good thing Bálor knows which side his bread is buttered on.”

 

“Y’ said ya’ wouldn’t hurt him if I brought him in quietly!” Bálor shouted.

 

“And you bought that story?” Seth coughed a mouthful of blood and spit up at Hunter. “ _Now_ who’s the stupid one?”

 

Bálor ignored him, still focused on Hunter. “We had a _deal_ , Helmsley.” Hunter began to unbutton his cuffs, his motions slow and deliberate while Seth flailed his legs. “Y’ gave me yer word that all y’ wanted was to talk. Is that worth nothin’ to ya’?”

 

“What I choose to do with my property is my own business.” Hunter replied coolly.

 

“Yer prop-- _what?!_ ” Bálor fairly roared, his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth for a split second.

 

“You’ve held up your end of the bargain, Little Critter. Payment was transferred to your account the second you popped in here. This is my show now. I suggest you scram.” Hunter made a shooing motion.

 

“I dinnae’ wan’ _payment_ Helmsley, y’ _swore_ t’ me--”

 

Seth missed the rest of what Bálor said when Hunter cracked him in the jaw hard enough to make his teeth rattle. Rollins’ vision slid sideways, the younger man almost passing out. Almost, until Hunter slapped him across the face. That snapped him back into agonizing focus. “You’re not getting out of this _that_ easy, kid.”

 

“Fuck you.” Seth breathed.

 

“So quiet when you’re not fucking up my archives and wreaking havoc on my property.” Hunter growled. “We could hear you caterwauling even when we couldn’t see you on the tapes, you fuck-up.”

 

“’Member when I used to call you Dad?” Rollins murmured. “Shit, I woulda’ done anything for you. How times fuckin’ change.”

 

“You little _asshole_.” Hunter grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him upright, then shoved him back against the wall. Seth coughed up more blood, wondering if he’d bitten his tongue in half. Hunter seemed wildly frustrated, the vein in his forehead plainly visible. “Drawing attention to me with your _free running_ bullshit, you and those _gutter_ _rats_ you hung around with!” He shouted, spit flying with every word.

 

“ _Enough_ Helmsley!” Bálor barked. “You said y’ wanted t--!” Hunter turned around and jabbed a finger into the middle of the demon’s chest, as if to shut him up.

 

“I don’t know how you do your little _parlor_ _trick_ and frankly I don’t give a shit. If you don’t get lost you’re going to be in the same boat as this little bastard.” Hunter threatened. There was that soft noise that Rollins associated with Bálor vanishing and Seth let his chin fall to rest on his chest, his heart sinking. Hunter grunted, seeming satisfied. “That’s more like it.”

 

A familiar body was suddenly wrapped protectively around Seth from behind, a handful of gray-tinged fingers extended in front of him to flip Hunter the bird. Seth barely heard Hunter’s infuriated yell before they were gone, pulled back through the in-between.

 

“I’m sorry.” Bálor said softly after a long silence. The area he had brought them to was as pitch black as the in-between; distant sounds of machinery and the oppressive, crushing heat told Seth’s shaken brain that they must be somewhere in the Underground. Seth silently pulled free of Bálor’s grip. “Please, Seth, I swear I d-”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Seth screamed, his throat raw. “Just shut up! What the fuck did I tell you? What did I _fucking_ tell you?” He wiped gingerly at his face, cringing when he caught the scape on his cheek.

 

“I _know_ , I’m--”

 

“You sold me out to him! You dropped me right into his fucking lap!” Seth spat a mouthful of blood off to the side, fleetingly grateful for the lack of loose teeth in said mouthful.

 

“He played me, Rollins! He fuckin’ tricked me, alright? He said all he wanted was his boy back, called me a fuckin’ thief for stealin’ ya’ away!” Bálor shouted right back at him and Seth felt a hand on his arm. “I’m a weak bastard, the idj’it that I fuckin’ am, I believed he was concerned. I guess I…deep down, I wanted y’ to be able t’ reconcile with the man. So I told him I’d bring you. He promised he-”

 

“You could have fucking trusted me. Don’t touch me.” Seth growled. The hand on his arm tightened.

 

“I’m _not_ touchin’ y-- _‘ey_ , hands off!” Bálor yelped and there was the sound of a sad little laugh.

 

“Wondered how long it would be before you noticed me.” Said an unfamiliar voice. White eyes gleamed from a spot by Seth’s elbow and he barely kept from flinching away.

 

“ _Fuck’s_ sake Jeff, y’ can’t just start a game a’ grabass out the blue.” Bálor scolded. “Rollins is liable t’ take yer arm off.”

 

“ _You’re_ the one who barged in without knockin’ ahead of schedule.” Rollins got the impression that he was being shrugged at. “Said you needed help with somethin’?”

 

“D’ya have a light in here?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Seth heard skittering from both sides of the room and a nightlight clicked on, attached to an extension cord and held high by the tattooed hand of a man who looked exhausted.

 

The man ( _Jeff?_ ) squinted at Rollins suspiciously, then gestured for him to sit down in the lone folding chair. Behind him, his shadow wavered on the wall. It seemed… _darker_ than it should be. Seth quickly tried to dismiss the fanciful thought when Jeff handed the light over to Bálor and slid the leg of Seth’s pants up. “Knee, right?” Jeff asked, glancing up at Rollins and Bálor to confirm. “It’s hot to the touch. Red in the dark. You wouldn’t notice because you haven’t been down here as long.” He continued offhandedly, “We could see it though, plain as the nose on your face.”

 

“Ah.” Seth threw Bálor an irritated look. The other man grimaced.

 

“The sooner we get that trace off of you the better. I didn’t expect Helmsley to be so…hands on. I made an appointment for a bit later. I was goin’ t’ explain and such.” Bálor said hesitantly.

 

“He at least made an appointment. Normally people just…find me.” Jeff sighed.

 

“Jeff deals with a lot of things like this ever since Wyatt got his brother.”

 

“I’ll get him back.” Jeff fell silent then, probing over the back of Seth’s calf with his eyes closed. Seth watched him narrowly, wiping his bloody nose with his sleeve.

 

“How’s yer face?” Bálor asked, a note of concern in his voice.

 

“What, you concerned you won’t get money for damaged goods?” Rollins retorted, feeling a little guilty at how crestfallen Bálor looked. He quickly shoved it aside. “Obviously Hunter doesn’t care about a few _dents_ or scratched paint.”

 

“I know I fucked up, alrigh’? I know it.” Bálor snapped back.

 

“ _Gently_ , princelin’.” Jeff murmured, giving no other outward indication that he was listening.

 

Bálor grunted out a breath, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “I’m…I’m sorry, Seth. No excuses. I fucked up on this one, delivered you t’ the man you kept tellin’ me was no good. Intentions are irrelevant.” He said, his voice clipped and rough. “I ought t’ have listened t’ you.”

 

Seth shifted uncomfortably, flinching when Jeff dug his fingers in a little harder. He could have sworn he saw Jeff’s shadow move differently. He told himself he was imagining things, just a trick of the flickering light. “It wouldn’t be the first time that someone bought the crap Hunter sold them.” He finally muttered grudgingly. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I fuckin’ will, actually. Yer a bloody mess on account a’ my sentimentality.” Bálor reached out and put a hand on Seth’s shoulder, and Seth surprised himself by covering the hand tentatively.

 

Jeff started to sing under his breath, half-humming a tune Seth felt like he ought to recognize. Jeff stroked carefully over his knee, fingers trailing neon purple in their wake. _Is that paint?_ Seth wondered, confused by the way it shimmered when it caught the meager light. Jeff moved up slightly, rotating his wrist to cradle Seth’s leg. “Easy now.” He whispered, glancing over at Bálor. “Princelin’, could you…?”

 

“’Course Willa’, whatever y’ need to fix him up.” Bálor said gruffly, clapping his other hand down on Jeff’s shoulder after hanging the bulb from a rusty hook overhead.

 

Jeff’s eyes reflected like a cat’s in the light from the tiny bulb, the man blinking slow and thoughtful at Seth. “It’s worked upwards. I don’t know if we can draw it all.” He said worriedly.

 

“Do yer best. I’ll keep him from anythin’ else.”

 

“What’s gonna’ happen to me?” Seth asked finally, feeling a tremor of fear run through him at the unnatural shine of Jeff’s eyes and the grave tone of his voice.

 

“Close yer eyes.” Bálor ordered.

 

“I don’t-”

 

“It’ll be easier on you mentally if you close them. It can be hard to watch us work.” Jeff interrupted gently. Then, to Bálor, “Look, you can’t just _demand_ that he does shit. Makes resentment, makes him think that you think he’s stupid.”

 

“Please, just…let’s jus’ get this over with.” Bálor muttered, looking appropriately chastised.

 

“Ready?” Jeff asked Seth, who nodded hesitantly and closed his eyes.

 

Another pair of hands settled onto his knee. Seth barely resisted the urge to leap to his feet and start swinging. He hadn’t heard anyone else in the room, who-?

 

“Trust them.” Bálor breathed, rubbing at the tight muscle in Seth’s shoulder. “Don’t need t’ trust me. Just trust them. Jeff won’t let anythin’ bad happen.”

 

“ _He’s a mess._ ” That was a new voice. Like Jeff, but also not. It sounded distorted, as though the person was speaking underwater. Seth clenched his fists nervously on his thighs.

 

“Don’t we know it, Willa’.”

 

“He needs us, Willow. Figured you’d wanna’ help. No bullshit explainin’, no run around. Just us and the princelin’.” Jeff’s voice was measuredly calm. “You don’t have to if it’s too much.”

 

“ _If he needs us…_ ”

 

“Could help in the long run. Help us understand what Wyatt’s done t’ Matt.”

 

“ _The brother…of course_.” Something flickered in Seth’s mind, the image of an older man with a single, jarring streak of white in his dark hair. “ _We can, yes_.”

 

“Whatever y’ two want, Willa’, s’yers.” Bálor sounded immensely grateful and Seth wanted to wonder about that, but he quickly shoved the desire away.

 

“ _What happened to his face?_ ” Gloved fingers brushed over Seth’s cheek and he cringed.

 

“My fault.” Bálor admitted.

 

“ _Not…entirely. You should believe him_. _Mostly_.”

 

“Who…who are you?” Seth asked cautiously. _God_ , he wished he wasn’t too scared to open his eyes!

 

“ _We’re Willow_.” That gloved hand cupped his chin carefully, turning his head to the side. “ _Can see why the Princeling worries for you_. _Good face_.”

 

“Willa’!” Bálor sputtered.

 

“Don’t tease him, Willow.” Jeff scolded. “Focus.”

 

“ _I am_.” Fingers clamped down on Seth’s windpipe, cutting off his breath. He struggled to no avail; Willow’s grip was like iron. His eyes flew open in panic and he came face to face with… _whatever_ Willow was. Seth got the fleeting impression of _monochrome_ , then glowing white eyes had him transfixed, hypnotized into stillness. “ _It’s spread._ ” Willow hummed. Their thumb pressed to the side of Seth’s neck, his carotid thundering away beneath the skin. “ _Quicker now_.”

 

“Wyatt’s on t' us, Jeff. We need to-”

 

“I know. Willow, keep up the pressure.” Fingers that Seth dimly assumed were Jeff’s traipsed up the other side of his neck. “Shh, relax.” Jeff soothed.

 

_You are_ _**mine** _ _, my dear boy._

 

“I-” Seth wheezed.

 

Bálor placed his palm flat on the back of Seth’s neck, skimming the scar there and making Seth twitch inadvertently. “Three.”

 

“ _Two_.” Willow blinked slowly at Rollins, blue-white eyes brighter than the lightbulb.

 

“One.” At Jeff’s words, it felt as though something jagged was pushed violently through Seth’s calf and out the front of his leg. He screamed, unable to turn his head to look down and see the damage. Jeff hushed him, pressing their foreheads together and breaking the trance that Willow’s eyes had wrapped him in. “Easy, easy. That was it.” Jeff whispered.

 

Seth couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping. “How bad is it?” He croaked. “How long am I out for this time?” _How am I supposed to protect myself if I’m hurt again? Roman told me to only come back if I was in_ _ **real**_ _trouble, maybe-_

 

“You’re entirely fine.” Jeff assured him, breaking his frantic train of thought. “I know it felt ugly. I promise you’re fine. Do you wanna’ check it out?”

 

Mostly all Seth wanted to do was vomit and then sleep for sixty years. He chanced a look down, exhaling hard when he saw that his leg was none the worse for the wear. “Oh thank _fuck_.” He gasped, going limp in the chair.

 

“I told you two, whatever y’ want is yers.” Bálor reiterated, his hands fever-hot and steady on Seth’s shoulders. Seth realized with a start that Willow was gone, his eyes hurriedly roaming the room and then coming to rest on Jeff’s shadow with a healthy amount of suspicion.

 

Jeff’s eyes flickered white momentarily. “ _We want Matt_.”

 

“I know, Willa’. I’ll ask Jeff too, if y’ don’t mind.” Bálor said softly.

 

Jeff blinked once. “We need your support by Mick’s. Acolytes are gettin’ too aggressive. Kane made it out of here but they kept savagin’ him when he would leave Mick’s.”

 

“Done.” Bálor promised, “I’ll circle a few nights, get ‘em to clear off. Make sure Mick knows it’s me. I’m not over-fond of gettin’ my teeth kicked in by a man wit’ broken hips.”

 

“Absolutely.” Jeff angled a glance at Seth, who was still trying to get his pulse down to a normal rate. “How you holdin’ up, Buttercup?”

 

“Want to puke.” Seth replied faintly. “I’ll be okay.”

 

…

 

“You didn’t have to come along, y’know. I’ve handled this lot before.”

 

“Oh, I’m aware. But Mick is an old friend.” Seth wasn’t sure if that was _quite_ the right term. Bálor quirked an eyebrow at him, his disbelief plain. Seth sighed heavily. “Look, when I ran with D--uh, the other guys, we had some trouble with the Acolytes. That’s how I ended up with the…the leg issue. Mick patched me up.”

 

“ _Ah_ , yer a veteran of his stitchwork.” Bálor grinned suddenly, pulling up his sleeve and dragging a finger down the line of scar tissue on his shoulder. “Same here. When y’ threw me and I caught that guardrail head-on. Damn near took my arm off.”

 

“When I…?” Seth trailed off, furrowing his brow. _We fought?_

 

“Oh ye, months ago.” Bálor seemed more rueful now. “Long before y’ asked for my help gettin’ in an’ out. You don’t uh, y’ dun’ recall?” Seth shook his head. “Ah, so he’s had them claws deep in ye then. Wonder how many things he's taken.”

 

Seth's mind whirled, searching back and to his horror, locating numerous, _glaring_ holes in his memory. Passing out, waking up in the wrong places with blood on his hands and bruises on his body. _You are_ _ **mine**_ _, my dear boy._ “Oh no.” He said helplessly. _What else have I done?_

 

“Eh, it's in the past.” Bálor waved off his concern with enviable ease, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “Y' had that Wyatt 'dead face' on the whole time, di'nt say so much as two words t' me. I figured ye weren't at the wheel.”

 

“That's not really any better.” Seth replied, leaning against the wall and rubbing a hand down his face.

 

Bálor shrugged up at him. “Y' can't change it. But you're _you_ again. No tricks.”

 

Motion caught Rollins' attention and he straightened up. “Shh, look.” He gestured down at the street and Bálor fell silent, the both of them watching intently as four Acolytes slid from the shadows to tail a lone individual who had just left Mick’s soup kitchen. “Shall we?”

 

“’Course.” Bálor loped along the rooftop and then vanished, reappearing on the roof of the next building over. “Y’ comin’ or what?” He called to Seth, smirking.

 

“Fuckin’ _cheater_.” Seth announced, smiling without intending to.

 

Bálor gave him a roguish wink, jogging in place. “Ye’ll have t’ do better n’ that!” His smirk slipped a gratifying notch when Seth easily made the jump and sprinted past him. “’Ey!” He protested, floundering to catch up.

 

Seth flung himself to the next roof, focusing on the Acolytes who were still following their lone target. This was where he thrived, thinking on his feet, bolting across the high ground and creating a path as he went. The night air seemed clearer than it had been in _months_ , neon lights bright in the darkness. He had been in the dark for so long, being poisoned and manipulated in the quest for his revenge and redemption.

 

He suddenly thought of Dean and Roman as he plummeted down to land on an old fire escape. It felt like an eternity since he’d seen either of them and Seth swallowed hard past the lump that materialized in his throat.

 

“Might be easier if y’ let ‘em think yer dead still.” Bálor murmured from the shadows beside him. “Otherwise Helmsley might use ‘em against ye.”

 

“He still will. _He_ knows I’m alive.” Seth replied bleakly. “After we deal with these guys.”

 

“Whatever y’ want.” Bálor hesitated, then put a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “I’m...glad that y’ want to touch base with ‘em.”

 

“They’re my brothers. After all my dumb antics, the _least_ they deserve is a warning.” Seth shook Bálor’s hand off of him after a moment. “C’mon, let’s end this.”

 

“Lead th’ way.”

 

Rollins hit the pavement in a crouch and sprang forward, arms outstretched. It was a move he had watched Roman do hundreds of times; momentum, tackle, the punch at the end. Two Acolytes were down before the others realized someone else was there and Seth hissed out a breath through gritted teeth. He was so lucid it was nearly painful, edges crisp and bright. _How long has it been?_ He wondered, easily parrying a punch and cracking an uppercut into the other man’s chin, all knuckles and wrist.

 

Bálor was suddenly _there_ , gray-stained hand on his ribs to shove him forcefully aside. A fifth Acolyte had slunk out of the alley while Seth was preoccupied, Bálor’s push the only thing that kept him from a knife in the kidney. The blade dug into Bálor’s abdomen instead and the blue-eyed man snarled loudly, grappling with the Acolyte.

 

Seth had frozen at the sight of the knife and gotten punched in the jaw for his momentary lapse, reeling back from the blow. “Run home to your shepherd!” The Acolyte taunted, chuckling. “Go on, run!”

 

_Run coward, run_.

 

Rollins squared up, his teeth bared in a fierce display. “Not happening.” The Acolyte swung wildly and Seth ducked, countering by way of a vicious stomp to the other man’s instep that crumpled him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and Seth barely dodged in time, feeling the brush of knuckles against the side of his head as another Acolyte whiffed his punch. “C’mon!” Seth jeered, feinting forward with a lightning-fast right and then slamming the heel of his left palm into the other man’s nose just like Dean used to. “That all you got?”

 

The fact that he was able to _enjoy_ fighting had Seth practically giddy, flinging his body into the combat without a care in the world. It felt like an eternity had passed since he had enjoyed anything. _How long has it been? How long has it been?_

 

Bálor was back in the fray, blood blotting the hole-ridden t-shirt he always seemed to wear under his leather jacket. His motions flowed between combatants, vanishing and reappearing with an ease that was supernatural, fluid, _graceful_. Seth wished privately that he could watch him closer.

 

It felt like it was over too soon, the two of them standing over five bodies _waiting_ for any sign of consciousness. Bálor finally stepped back, grimacing and pressing a hand to his stomach. “Think that’s it.” He said quietly, glancing up at Rollins.

 

His breathing was more harsh than Seth would like and Seth was immediately on edge. “Are you okay?” He asked sharply.

 

“Little deeper n’ I expected, but I’m fine.” Bálor winced. “Been ages since I was hit, normally I’m too fas’ for ‘em.”

 

“You took that one for me. Why? You didn’t have to.” Seth asked, wishing he didn’t sound so petulant.

 

“Man needs a reason t’ _not_ be an asshole now? Ah, I suppose y’ can chalk it up t’ common decency then.” Bálor offered wryly. “Does it really matter? The point is, I fuckin’ did it an’ that’s that.”

 

“Now I owe you.” Seth said uncomfortably.

 

“Lord _Almighty_ , nách mór an diabhal thú.” Bálor huffed. “You don’t-”

 

“I definitely do.” Seth interrupted him, his eyes narrowing. “Also what the hell did you say?”

 

“En’t you th’ devil.” Bálor sounded _far_ too amused. “Reserved for the fondly _fuckin’_ obnoxious.”

 

…

 

“ _You don’t get to come into_ _ **my**_ _house and talk about Dean that way.”_

 

_A headache had been pounding behind Seth’s eyes for the better part of a month. Ever since they had their run-in with the Family, ever since Dean had gone missing. He grimaced and Roman noticed, the larger man’s stern expression softening a fraction._

 

“ _Seth, I’m not giving up on him.”_

 

“ _Why_ _ **not?**_ _Reigns, he’s_ _ **gone**_ _.” Seth whined, rubbing his temples. “He was dead weight anyway, c’mon. You know it, I know it.” Since when did he talk like_ _ **this?**_ _Seth could barely think through the throbbing in his skull._

 

_But Roman was already shaking his head. “Absolutely not. You can give up if you want, but I won’t. Not until I’m identifying him in a freezer.” He had always been so stubborn._

 

_Seth groaned, dropping his head to rest on the desk beneath him. “_ _**Romannn…** _ _”_

 

“ _No, and that’s final. What the hell is your problem, man?_ _ **You’re**_ _the reason he’s--"_

 

“ _I didn’t hold a fuckin’ gun to his head. He probably went down there because he was_ _ **bored**_ _or something. You can’t blame_ _ **me**_ _for the fact that he’s fuckin’ nuts, Reigns.” Seth protested._ What the hell **is** my problem?

 

“ _You’re Hunter and Steph’s.” Roman said, his teeth gritted hard. “They’ve got a hell of a lot of money and influence. Dean is…he’s a few steps up from_ _ **homeless**_ _, Seth. No family aside from us, no ties, nothing. It’s easy to make someone like him disappear. As his brothers, it’s our responsibility to--"_

 

“ _I’m_ _ **not**_ _going back down there.” Seth interrupted, trying his hardest to shove away the memories of winding tunnels, dark and hot, wavering lightbulbs in the distance. “He’s fuckin’ crazy and I’m not risking my ass because he’s finally gone off the deep end.”_

 

“ _Seth, this guy has-”_

 

“ _I said no!” Seth snapped, standing up quickly. “He’s always been a few sandwiches short of a fucking picnic, man. We’re better off without him. Stronger. Smarter.” This was awful, it felt like his mouth had been hijacked._ What did I just say?

 

“ _His sanity didn’t seem to matter when he was taking punches meant for you.” Roman snarled. “Now all of a sudden we’re too good for him? I don’t think so, Rollins. Either tell me the real reason you don’t want to go back down there or get the_ _ **fuck**_ _out and let me work.” He yanked open the door to the back alley and made an impatient motion with his hand. “You’re not welcome here, Rollins. Don’t come back unless you’re in serious trouble, got it?”_

 

_Seth was_ _**reeling** _ _. Roman looked more serious than he had ever seen him, the larger man’s brow furrowed angrily. “Well fine.” Seth replied lamely--_

 

Seth shook himself all over, doing his best to shake the memories off with the motion. From his place beside him, Bálor shifted warily. “Sorry, I’m going.” Seth apologized for the sixth time, staring at the door to the storage room of The Empire and trying not to panic.

 

“Take yer time.” Was all Bálor said in reply, fiddling with the zipper of his old leather jacket.

 

Seth finally slid down the brick wall to land silently in the alley, skulking in the shadows on his way to the old wooden stairs. Bálor appeared at his elbow after a momentary hesitation and Seth found himself stupidly grateful for his presence.

 

Mustering up the nerve to press the delivery bell took another five minutes, Seth curling and uncurling his fingers over and over before he squared his shoulders and slammed the button with his fist.

 

Barely three seconds went by and then Roman opened the back door, his head still turned to call more instructions to Baron. Seth was somewhat mortified at the way Roman’s whole face went pale when he met his eyes. Seth raised a hand, wiggling his fingers in a meager half-wave. “Uh, h-hi Roman.” He swallowed hard. “I have some…um, some news. For you and Dean. Information, y’know. Like old times.” Roman still hadn’t moved an inch. Seth cleared his throat awkwardly. “Roman?”

 

“Seth, I…I mean, y-you’re…” Roman stammered, one hand shakily reaching out to touch Seth’s cheek.

 

“I know I don’t deserve to talk to you. I know that I let you down, fuckin’ abandoned you and Dean when we should have stuck together more than anything.” Seth rambled, trying to fill the empty space before Roman slammed the door in his face. “I know that…I mean, you told me not to come back unless I was in real trouble, but I--” The next thing Seth knew, he was grabbed by the arm and dragged into a hug that threatened to crack his ribs. Roman buried his face in his shoulder, fingers tangling in the shaggy curls at the nape of Seth’s neck. Rollins felt Roman’s whole body shake and he realized that Roman was _crying_. “Ro I’m so…I’m _so_ fucking sorry.” He managed to say.

 

“I’m hallucinating. Or this is a trick.” Reigns muttered against the side of his jaw. “You’re dead.”

 

“Can’t get rid of me that easy, I guess.” Seth was horrified to find that he himself was tearing up. “I’ve had a wild time.”

 

Roman pulled back, cupping Seth’s face with his hands and staring at him anew. “Christ, Rollins.” He whispered, still obviously not believing his own eyes as he wiped Seth’s tears away with his thumb. “I just…we went to your _funeral_ , man.”

 

“Hunter was thorough.” Seth could almost pinpoint the second that Roman understood what he meant, the larger man’s posture stiffening. “I’ve had to keep a low profile.”

 

“Did you come alone?” Roman asked, all business despite his teary eyes and red nose.

 

Seth shook his head, beckoning for Bálor to come into the light. “Been a few months since yer holiday fête, Reigns. I trust yer keepin’ outta’ trouble?” Bálor inquired with a nod in Roman’s direction.

 

“Wonderful.” Roman sighed. “At least you’re a baby abomination. Small favors. Come in, both of you.” He urged, opening the door wider. “I’ll call up Shea, see if Dean is free.”

 

“Dean’s out front talkin’ with Zayn, what do you need him for?” Baron asked curiously from the door to the main room. His brow furrowed when he looked past Roman and spotted Rollins and Bálor darkening the doorway. “Uh. Boss?”

 

“Just ask Dean to come back here.” Roman instructed quietly.

 

“Boss is…is that--?”

 

“Yes, it’s him. Please get Dean.” Roman rubbed his eyes once Baron had bolted off to the front area of Empire. He looked exhausted. Seth awkwardly shifted his weight back and forth, old boots _clunk_ ing on the floorboards of the storeroom.

 

“Alright, alright! I’m here man, you need somethin’ lifted o…or…” Dean’s words ground to a halt as he leaned against the door frame. “This is a joke, right? A really, _really_ shitty joke?” He rasped after a moment. “There’s no way.”

 

“It’s me, Ambrose.” Seth felt like he was being studied under a microscope, Ambrose’s eyes narrowing to nothing but blue slits in his face. “I swear it’s me.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, not sounding convinced in the slightest. He shoved off of the door frame to saunter directly into Seth’s personal space, baring his teeth and tugging at the threadbare shirt Rollins was wearing. “You have a fallin’ out with Daddy dearest? This is a little less flashy than your usual black and neon green spandex number.” Casually, like he didn’t think Rollins would notice, Dean’s fingers slid to the back of his neck. “Pretty good fake, they got your scars right.” Dean said, slapping at the inside of Seth’s wrist. “ _And_ your tattoo! But did they get-” Ambrose easily spun Seth around and yanked up the back of his shirt to expose his other tattoo. “-Fuck, _thorough_. Even got those buns of steel right.”

 

Bálor snorted at that and Seth couldn’t choke back his own little cackle. Dean went still at the sound. “Jesus Christ, if you want me to strip at _least_ let me do it by myself.” Seth complained finally, pulling away from Dean. “It’s _me_ , Dean.”

 

Dean’s stare was wider now, less hostile. “Seth?” He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

 

“I _told_ you it’s me.” Seth grumbled. “Why-” He was unable to finish his question after Dean threw himself at him. Ambrose’s fingers clawed for purchase on his back through his thin hoodie and Seth knew better than to ask whether he was crying, just resting his face on Dean’s shoulder. “It’s me, man. I promise.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I can give you a really, _really_ brief synopsis. The longer I stay, the worse it could be. If Hunter finds out that I’ve been here-”

 

“ _Fuck_ Hunter.” Dean’s teeth snapped down on his hoodie and Seth felt more than saw Bálor flinch.

 

Roman ushered everyone out of the storeroom and into his office. It was a bit _crowded_ but Seth secretly luxuriated in it, feeling almost like he was back in a dogpile with his brothers. Once he was done giving his very quick summary and trying to answer as many of their questions as he could, he settled back into the couch and let the other two talk with Bálor. Seth closed his eyes for a second. Only a second...

 

_Seth had no idea how far the damage extended, his body sunken into the dull ache of_ _**too much** _ _. He laid on his stomach, feeling the cool metal of the Ferris wheel frame through the material of his shirt and that familiar, splitting pain in his head eased off a little. Shadows struggled up the sides of the wheel, no doubt finding the footing even more treacherous than he had. Seth closed his eyes and waited. He was all used up. He didn’t even have the strength to raise his head when he heard a quiet chuckle._

 

“ _And now, we come to the end.” A ratty sneaker battered against Seth’s ribs and he wheezed painfully, the yawning chasm of darkness beckoning him ever closer to the edge. “You should have listened when Hunter told you off, my boy.”_

 

“ _Fuck you.” Seth choked out. The shoe hit the side of his head. “Fuck you, fuck you and_ _ **especially**_ _fuck Hunter.” He continued blearily, rolling onto his back and flipping the bird at the Family member before sliding the rest of the way off the top of the Spinnarooni._

 

_The fall should have killed him. Hell, he’d been counting on it. As Seth dropped down, down, he had closed his eyes and waited again, this time for the inevitable impact._

 

_But it never came._

 

_Someone’s forearm slammed into his stomach and knocked the breath out of him; there was a sudden absence of noise that made his ears ring loudly and then Seth crash-landed on top of another body. The drop had apparently gotten_ _**significantly** _ _shorter, not to mention the fact that the pavement felt_ _**suspiciously** _ _like a pile of half-full trash bags. Seth struggled to inhale, his whole being in painful spasm._

 

“ _Feck's sake,_ _ **fuck's**_ _sake._ _ **Ass**_ _. Fuck.” Whoever he had landed on was clearly displeased. Seth was pushed aside and he hit the ground with a_ _ **thud**_ _. “Fuckin' shet.” Cold pavement met his cheek and he groaned. “_ _ **Fuck**_ _, yer alive. Jesus.” One of Seth's eyelids was pried open and he did his best to roll his eyes forward, barely managing a twitch before the effort grew to be too much. “Jesus, y' bleedin' bad. Alright, alright, great catch.” The person appeared more than content to carry on both sides of their conversation. A hand cradled the back of his neck, supporting his head. “Look at ye,_ _ **gods**_ _what a mess.”_

 

_Seth tried to speak and failed, swallowing hard and then licking his cracked lips. “P...Please...” He managed to whisper._

 

“ _Easy, don't talk. Save it.” That voice murmured, a bottle of water pressed to his mouth. Seth drank greedily; he had been on the run for what felt like_ _ **weeks**_ _without rest and the coolness of the liquid was welcome on his dry throat. “Got t' get y' patched, can’t have ya’ passin’ on ahead of schedule.”_

 

_Seth dimly recognized the sound of traffic going by._

 

“ _They’re goin’ t’ come for ye soon, I can’t stay.” A cloth continued to daub at the blood trickling from his nose. “He’s got a plan for ye, not sure what. But he’s not goin’ t’ kill y’. He said…he said y’ won’t remember that I was here, when it’s all said an’ done. I suppose that’s fine.” Fingers wrapped around his own, pulling his hand up to graze an ugly, thick line of stitches._

 

-flinging himself forwards at his opponent, the rasp of air in his lungs and the chafe of sweat-soaked fabric on his skin **what’s happening to me** , his jaw glued shut **where am I** -

 

_Seth wanted to recoil desperately._

 

-finally catching hold of the demon bastard and just **throwing** him blindly with all his strength against the guardrail, the horror he felt when Bálor staggered back up holding his bleeding shoulder-

 

“ _Bá…lor…” Seth whispered, the name strange in his mouth._

 

“ _I imagine it’d be miles easier on ya’ t’ not recall. That’s alrigh’.”_

 

-blue eyes glowing in the black as he fell, one soot-stained arm tattooed with haphazard stitches at the shoulder outstretched to catch him-

 

“ _I doubt this is the last we’ll be seein’ of each other.” The sweaty strands of hair stuck to Seth’s forehead were smoothed back, the familiar-unfamiliar motion making him relax slightly. “Sleep now.”_

 

“ _Wait, please…” Seth tried to grab his hand, tried to keep him there. Bálor’s fingers vanished from his grip and his arm fell limply to the asphalt_...

 

Seth’s eyes flew open, glancing around wildly as he tried to remember where he was. He had passed out on the couch in Roman's office, it would seem. Bálor's jacket was draped over him. Seth wondered when _that_ had happened, shrugging the coat on and wrapping it around him. The jacket smelled like Bálor (or maybe Bálor smelled like the jacket), clean and sharp with warm leather undertones. Seth _might_ have buried his face in one of the lapels.

 

Across the room at the door, Dean was speaking with Bálor in hushed tones. “...Sami got away, so did Kane and I. You think other people-”

 

“It’s gettin’ worse.” Bálor said grimly. “Acolytes are stalkin’ th’ ones that do escape, draggin’ ‘em back to Wyatt so he can make _sure_ they can’t get free again. Goddamn farmer’s market down there, three quarters are vegetables wearin’ the masks. His mouthpieces, eyes an' ears.” Bálor panted for breath, his fingers raking at the bandage on his stomach. “ _Feck_.” He hissed after a second.

 

“Is it bad?”

 

“Just…tickles.” Bálor half-groaned, giving Dean a wink and receiving a gentle cuff on the side of his head.

 

“Still an asshole, I see.” Dean snorted. “If it gets to be too bad, give one of us a holler. We’d be more than happy to knock you out.”

 

“It’s good to know that _yer_ still all heart, Ambrose.” Bálor teased.

 

Ambrose chuckled, rumpling Bálor’s hair in a fond gesture. “I almost forgot to thank you for bringing our little bro back.” He said softly.

 

“He came here of his own will. I did nothin’.” Bálor protested. “En’t like I brought him back from th’ dead.”

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Dean replied, so quietly Seth almost missed it. “He would have died if you hadn’t grabbed him off the Spinnarooni.”

 

“Wyatt wanted him. Wanted t’ break him.” Bálor shrugged. “I hardly had noble intentions, Ambrose, was just-”

 

“You didn’t have to go along with it.” Dean interrupted. Bálor tilted his head after a silent moment. “You had every reason _not_ to go along with it.”

 

“Guess I still got some a’ tha’ damnable human decency in me after all.” Bálor looked over and caught Seth staring at him. He looked uncomfortable for a minute, before he simply shrugged and extended a hand. “Ready?”

 

Seth nodded, getting to his feet. Ambrose slapped him on the shoulder, his expression incredibly serious. “Come back sometime, alright?” Dean said quietly. “I'm glad you're okay.”

 

“Likewise.” Guilt strangled Rollins and he swallowed hard, trying to avoid Dean's eyes.

 

Ambrose knuckled his shoulder, making a dismissive noise. “Cool it. What's done is done. We got lucky.” He said, his tone gently chiding. “Don't make it be all for nothin', Rollins. And don't you _never_ pull this dead shit again.” 

 

“I won't. I promise.” Seth's smile felt rusty but he did it all the same.

 

He was surprised when Bálor brought them back to the roof of the building where he slept. Seth had figured that since he had done what he set out to do, he and Bálor would part ways. But the demon seemed in no great hurry to push him out the door, so Seth made himself comfortable on the rooftop. Bálor sat down beside him after reclaiming his jacket and for a few blissful moments the both of them just...existed.

 

The sky overhead sluggishly lightened, stars fading into the backdrop.

 

“Are you human?” Seth blurted out. Bálor raised an eyebrow so high it threatened to vanish into his hairline. “I-I mean, what I meant was--uh, well-”

 

“’ _Am I human?_ ’” Bálor repeated, sounding bemused. “I suppose tha’ depends on yer idea of what _human_ is. I bleed, yeah? I breathe. I had a heart in my chest, once. Pretty sure it’s gone.” Bálor paused. “But a’course, I do another thing. I assume that’s what yer referrin’ to? The… _other_ thing?” He vanished and reappeared inches from Seth’s face, his teeth bared. “The unexplainable, the unsolvable. Throwin’ my body through the fabric a’ space to get t’ where I oughta’ be.”

 

“You know what I fuckin’ mean. Not that.” Seth grunted. “Do you…y’know, do you _feel?_ ”

 

“Pain?”

 

“Oh for the love of-- _fuck_ , Bálor, you’re just gonna’ make me spell it out? I…what the fuck man.” Seth blustered, more and more embarrassed by the second.

 

“What?” Bálor looked genuinely confused. “I don’t think I un’erstan’.”

 

“Emotions. Interest. I dunno’.” Seth mumbled.

 

“Oh. You-- _oh_.” Bálor stopped talking abruptly, his eyes flaring neon blue in the dim light of dawn. His whole body practically bristled with nervous energy and Seth swallowed hard.

 

“Yeah. Something like that.” Rollins said awkwardly after several minutes of Bálor just… _staring_ at him, zipping and unzipping his jacket absently.

 

“Never thought about it.” Bálor whispered finally.

 

“Oh.” Seth hated how weak he sounded.

 

“Do…” Bálor hesitated momentarily. “D’ya want me to?”

 

“N-No! No, of course not. Hey, if you don’t then you don’t. It’s no skin off my nose, man.” Rollins felt panicky, his voice cracking. The _last_ thing he wanted was to make the demon who could shift through dimensions uncomfortable.

 

Bálor cocked his head to the side. “It bothers ye.”

 

“ _Hell_ no, man, I’m-”

 

“Don’t lie t’ me. I’m not like you lot up here.” Bálor narrowed his eyes. “Spell it out fer me.”

 

“You…that is, I…” Seth floundered and then shook his head, grabbing Bálor’s lapels. “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.” He said softly, searching the other man’s face.

 

Bálor looked as nonchalant as ever, simply inclining his head. Seth brushed their mouths together and he felt Bálor shudder. “Stop.” The other man breathed. Seth immediately pulled back. “Wait, not so far away.” Bálor amended, cupping his face. “Ye…wanted t’ kiss me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“No one’s ever wanted t’...look, I’m a _demon_. A-A freak.” Gray fingertips stroked through Seth’s facial hair. “Why d’ you...?”

 

“I dunno’.”

 

Bálor groaned and pressed their foreheads together, blue eyes boring into Seth’s brown ones. “There’s no comin’ back from me, Rollins.” He warned. “Y’ need a better reason.”

 

“Do I? Last time I checked, I’ve done smarter things for dumber reasons.” Seth retorted, earning himself a wry grin. “You obviously think very highly of yourself if you believe I can’t recover from you.”

 

“Of course, _that’s_ what I think.” Bálor drawled. “Far be it from me t’ worry abou’ yer wellbein’, I’m only here t’ talk m’self up.”

 

“You make it sound like you have acid spit.” Seth teased.

 

“I suppose that’d depend on whether y’ want my mouth on ye, now wouldn’t it?” Bálor’s burr had taken on a husky, softer tone. “We might have incompatible bits, Rollins.”

 

“I find that _extremely_ unlikely.”

 

Bálor took Seth’s hand and wordlessly brought it down to cup his groin. Seth’s eyes widened. “It seems I’ve discovered how t’ shut ye up.” Bálor commented dryly when Seth failed to make any sort of comment.

 

“A-Absolutely _no_ compatibility issues _what_ so fucking _ever_.” Seth finally stammered out once he regained his ability to speak. Bálor actually _laughed_ at that, his eyes crinkled with mirth.

 

“’ _King Slayer_ ’ sounds a mite bit more impressive than ‘ _Demon Fucker_ ’. But it’s...it's difficult t’ hide my interest in ye, mainly because I have nae practice in doin’ such and I don’t particularly _want_ t' hide my interest in the first place.” Bálor hummed in his throat, rubbing their foreheads together again. “I been curious t’ see how y’ might react. Didn’t want t’ frighten ye.”

 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Seth was startled when Bálor caught his chin and kissed him _hard_.

 

“Yer the furthest thin' from a disappointment, Seth.” Bálor said firmly between pressing kisses down his neck. Seth closed his eyes and dug his fingers into Bálor's shoulder blades. “M' serious.” Bálor took his hand again, but this time he pressed it to the bandage on his stomach beneath his shirt. “I don't move like _that_ for just any ol' reason. I don't step in the line a' fire for _no one_ , an' yet here I am lettin' myself get banged up for you. The hell have y' done t' me?” 

 

“I don't _want_ you getting hurt.” Seth managed to say.

 

“First one is free. Make it wort' my while an' maybe you'll get a few more outta' me.” Bálor's smirk was wicked. He was a creature stained by in-between, full of too many teeth for anyone to feel safe near him. And yet...

 

Seth stood up and offered Bálor his hand. The smile that he got in return was blindingly,  _achingly_ grateful. Bálor all but threw himself at him, trembling gray-tinged fingers winding through Seth's shaggy hair when he kissed him again. Rollins managed to open the door behind him and they both stumbled into Bálor's living space, Bálor seeming reluctant to part from him for even a moment. 

 

“No one's ever touched me like this.” Bálor breathed when Seth grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged his head back so he could mouth over his neck. “Fuckin'... _gods_ , yer makin' me a mess Rollins.” He admitted shakily. 

 

“How much of a mess?” Seth asked, delighted when Bálor clung to his shoulders and ground their bodies together.

 

“A desp'rate mess.” Bálor bit the words out. “I need y', need yer hands on my skin. _Fuck_ , I don't know what I need but I need _you_ , dammit.” He sucked in a breath when Seth pushed his shirt up, tearing his jacket away so Seth could finish getting his shirt off. “I've never...”

 

“You mentioned. It's okay.” Seth chuckled, smoothing a greedy hand down the expanse of Bálor's abdomen. “You're perfect.”

 

“Fuck, wouldn't I like t' believe _that_.” Bálor huffed. “But I suppose when y' have Adonis tellin' ye yer alright, y' ought t' take the compliment.” Seth fondled him gently through his pants and he went still, his fingers loose on Seth's shoulders. “ _Hah_.” Bálor exhaled raggedly. “Differen' when someone else is doin' the gropin'.” 

 

“Bad or good?”

 

“ _Good_ , good, Christ, more.” Bálor rambled and Seth felt him twitch against his hand. “I don't know what I ought t' be doin', I've seen a few things-”

 

“I'll tell you what, the first one is free. We'll see where this takes us.” Seth teased him, sliding his hand into the other man's pants. Bálor's head lolled forward and he groaned loudly when Seth wrapped his fingers around his cock. “Is _that_ what you've been waiting for? Christ, you're a _handful_ , aren't you?” Seth murmured in his ear, feeling Bálor shudder all over at his words. 

 

“I...I guess?” Bálor stammered, his normally-cool demeanor seeming to go to pieces under Seth's attentions. “Haven't done much measurin'.” He moved a hand down Seth's chest, tugging at the hem of the other man's hoodie.

 

“Trust me on this one, then.” Seth easily maneuvered out of his sweatshirt and t-shirt, unable to keep from snickering when Bálor hungrily dragged his fingers over his abs with an awestruck expression on his face. “Returnin' the favor, Bálor?”

 

“Call me Finn.” Bálor mumbled, making the barest eye contact before looking back down. “M' name is Finn.”

 

“Okay. Finn.” Seth agreed, startled at the way the other man bared his teeth. He didn't have very long to wait before Bálor was surprising him anew, those teeth nipping at his jaw and neck. Seth made an _incredibly_ embarrassing noise and Finn obviously heard it, if the way he smiled was any indicator. 

 

He unbuttoned Seth's jeans and wiggled the tight fabric down over his thighs, freeing Seth's cock. “ _Feckin'_ hell, y' need t' size up.” Finn muttered, sounding exasperated as he struggled to peel the jeans lower.

 

“They're supposed to be that way.” Rollins tried to explain. “It's a fashion thing.”

 

“Oh ye? Th' hell d'ya get 'em on in the mornin'?”

 

“Lots of prayer.” Bálor rolled his eyes at him, trying to stifle his laughter and failing miserably. Seth luxuriated in the happy sound for a second, stroking Finn's cock and letting his giggles dissolve naturally into moans. “You seem like you're enjoying yourself.”

 

“I am, _fuck_ I am.” Finn licked his own palm and took Seth's cock in hand. “I know what I like, but what d' _you_ like, mm?” When he closed his fingers down Seth lost his breath; it had been _ages_ since he had been touched. He felt like every nerve in his body was standing at attention, Finn's grip providing a slick tug that had Seth wanting to beg for more. “Oh, that's good.” Finn said softly, “ _Gods_ , yer lovely t' look at. The sunrise comin' through t' boards over there, it's catchin' y' jus' right an' _fuck_ , pretty as a fuckin' picture.” 

 

Seth flushed, a little embarrassed by Finn's lavish praise. In an attempt to distract the demon Seth tightened his grip, smearing Finn's abundant precome over the sensitive head of his cock. Finn gritted out a curse when Seth fondled his sac, his voice cracking as he cried out. “What's wrong, Finn?” Seth murmured, rubbing his thumb in a lazy circle. “Are you gonna' come?” Finn dug his forehead into Seth's shoulder, trying to stifle another cry while his hips rocked up to meet Seth's fist. “Are you gonna' come all over my cock, Finn?” Seth moved to jerk their cocks together, having to use both his hands in order to stroke them at the same time.

 

He felt Finn's dick twitch against his own, the sheer  _size_ of it still slightly overwhelming to him. Finn's breathing hitched and he latched his mouth down on Seth's neck. Seth didn't even care that he was going to have the love bite from hell, too overwhelmed by the orgasm screwing tight in his belly. “ _Gonna'_ -” Finn grunted, his facial hair teasing the sensitive skin he had just savaged. “Y' need t' fuckin'... _gods_ , Seth, please-”

 

“I know.” Seth breathed, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. Finn groaned and came hard, Seth not far behind as he felt his cock slicked anew by Finn's release. “ _Fuck_ , fuck fuck. Holy fuck.” Rollins gasped when he could talk again, loathe to let go of Finn's dick and choosing to rub against it for a few more seconds before he became too sensitive. “ _Fuck_.”

 

“I like that word comin' out yer mouth.” Finn shoved the hair back from Seth's face, cupped his jaw and kissed him just as hard as before. “Christ, I'm fuckin' exhausted.” He said bluntly, his voice pleasantly gritty. “It's half-past my fuckin' bedtime, I imagine.” Seth tried to stifle his yawn to no avail, struggling the rest of the way out of his jeans after grabbing a tissue to wipe off his hands. “If y' have no qualms abou' bein' in the same bed, I...er...” Finn trailed off, shrugging awkwardly and simply gesturing at the pile of blankets.

 

Seth nodded sleepily, wasting little time before flopping down to hog nearly all the blankets. Finn weaseled his way in beside him, tucking Seth protectively into his chest after a momentary tussle. “Not so bad f' a demon.” Seth mumbled.

 

“An' yer nae so bad fer a bedmate, I suppose.” Finn allowed, snuggling him even closer. “Wouldn't mind y' stickin' around, if yer so inclined.”

 

_ I doubt this is the last we’ll be seein’ of each other. _

 


End file.
